


Catch Me When I Fall

by adrift_me



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daud and Corvo working together, Fandom Trumps Hate, Investigations, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22031644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrift_me/pseuds/adrift_me
Summary: When Jessamine receives a mysterious note from a person who claim to be her assassin, there is no better person to investigate it than Corvo Attano.Who'd have thought it would be another man with the mark of the Outsider, a mark that would bind them together in ways neither has expected.An adventure based romance for Fandom Trumps Hate <3
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Daud, Corvo Attano/Daud/The Outsider, Corvo Attano/The Outsider (Dishonored), Daud/The Outsider (Dishonored)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 83
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2019





	Catch Me When I Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much, dear bidder, for requesting this fic and donating to a charity. I hope this fits your request and that you enjoy it - that all of you does :)
> 
> This is my first fic for this trio ship, I hope I gave them justice.
> 
> And I'm sorry for posting so close to deadline, life has, unfortunately, been busy and full of unfortunate events this year.
> 
> [Come chat with me on tumblr :)](https://a-driftamongopenstars.tumblr.com/)

It is not new for Corvo to be performing tasks of oddity. He has been undercover at fancy parties and in strange cults, he had to move to another city for a whole month to investigate a corruption in the governmental branch before taking action to stop a coup. But never before has he had to go on a rendez-vous with a man who claimed to be the Empress’ future assassin.

When Jessamine informed him of a letter from an anonymous source, explaining how there are plans to have the Empress murdered and the Empire overtaken, Corvo expressed some doubts. Not in his Empress, of course, but in the manner of such a letter. The anonymous writer invited someone to meet him about this, and there was no other better person to take the job.

And so he leaps from roof to roof, across the narrow streets, wind blowing in his face. It is easier as he is not quite alone - there is a black mark on his hand, darker than the night sky, gifted by a creature from the deepest corner of the Void.

The Outsider. They met a long time ago and began their history with the Outsider’s cold curiosity over a peculiar human being. And since then it has been rooftops and shrines and offerings, occasional kisses and whispers of worship as simple acquaintance turned into something else.

Corvo knows the Outsider watches him. And he dares not to disappoint.

The rendezvous point is further away in the district, the Flooded District, boarded off after the sea decided to put its ever reaching grasp into the streets and buildings and drown them, scaring people away. Corvo has been there rarely since the flood, but he knows that the water has long drained away - yet the destruction stayed.

He looks down onto a street, filled with rotten wood planks and crushed bricks. This place used to be much more lively, louder, too, with a flourish that rich people of Dunwall bring in - unnecessary “necessities” and the heart of the bureaucratic bank systems. Now it is nothing but an empty space with barely any hint on what it once used to be.

Something catches Corvo’s attention in the corner of his eye - a movement. Swift and quick, it could be a bird, could be the Outsider lurking to surprise him.

What Corvo does not expect is a person, a man, pointing his sword right to Corvo’s throat.

“Name yourself,” the stranger says, his voice rough and low.

“Corvo Attano,” he replies, feeling the weight of his own name. The stranger gives him a look from narrow eyes and lowers the weapon.

“I didn’t expect you to keep your end of the bargain, but I am glad you did. My name is Daud. And I was paid to kill the Empress.”

Corvo takes a hard long look at Daud. The man is older than him, though not by many years. His eyes are stone cold and his face is almost like a way too realistic sculpture. His red coat is dull in the dark evening lights of the district. But curiously… curiously, he and Corvo have something in common. That black mark, the Outsider’s gift, glowing softly from beneath the leather glove.

And the god in question does not make them wait for his appearance. His soundless steps bring him closer to Corvo and Daud, and his eyes, though smooth and liquid, pierce harder than a dart.

“Two men, different in all ways but origin, met at last at the precipice of change. What will you do, I wonder, what will you do,” the Outsider says softly, but there is no question in his voice, merely a thought. Corvo recognizes that tone, that which he hears on quiet nights when the Outsider bestows his mysterious wisdom upon him. Questions without answers and answers that help not.

“And of course you show up now,” Daud says with a scoff, stepping a little aside.

“I am curious,” the Outsider whispers, his voice touching at Corvo’s very heart. He notices that something similar to what he feels reflects in Daud’s eyes and posture, but he must have had enough time to learn to hide it.

Not that anything can be hidden from the Outsider.

Corvo turns to Daud.

“Who paid you for the assassination? And what do you want for this information?”

“Nothing. It is easy, in chaos that would break in case of Empress’ death, I would have trouble working.”

“Wouldn’t that lead to more people needing your.. Services?”

“Precisely. And I don’t want to squander my skill, my people or hope for those bastards that think that murder and money can get them anything.”

“You still haven’t told me who paid you.”

“I don’t quite know. They used an agent and a solid amount of coin to prove that it’s someone of high standing. The rest, Lord Protector, I give to you for investigation.”

Corvo ponders. 

“Why don’t you work for me? It might be that the crown would require your service for a backstrike.”

“My my,” Daud drawls, smiling a little with his dry lips. There is something.. Dark in his eyes, the way he looks over Corvo. There is hungry curiosity, which is nothing like the Outsider’s. It’s much more lively. Less confident and more humane. “Lord Protector using services of people such as myself? I think I can work with that. I will be in touch. And you should begin investigating the Empress’ close circle. Traitors might not have my skill, but it doesn’t take much to use a dagger.”

And with that he dissipates in the air, the power of the Void leaving a barely noticeable aftertaste.

The Outsider watches Corvo from the shadows, his black eyes unblinking. Corvo swallows and heads back home, a traitor’s letter in hand.

***

There are a few days of a long, stretched out silence. Corvo puts out feelers throughout the city, tugging at the threads he has so carefully constructed, but there is no return. Assassin Daud has disappeared in thin air, leaving Corvo with many questions and insatiable need for answers. He prefers knowing the turf of the city, but it has only proven itself to be deeper than he thought.

The Outsider visits him again for a ponderous night. He is like a piece of the night itself, draped in his simple black outfit and his eyes as deep as a sky.

“What piqued your interest?” Corvo asks, letting out a dull cloud of cigar smoke. It flavours the room with density and something a little spicy. “In Daud.”

“Plenty a thing… he is capable, promising. He is always leaving me wanting for more and he is unpredictable. That alone is enough to tip the scales. But even as such a prominent figure Daud can be… boring. But you and Daud… together, you are much more interesting.”

The more the Outsider talks, the more raw hunger there is in his voice. It makes Corvo shiver a little as if he were kissed by a night breeze.

“Sometimes you remind me of a shark in shallow waters. Stuck with us, mortals, and hungrier every day. But even when given an exit, you choose to stay.”

Outsider’s fingers rest on Corvo’s shoulder, digging in a little.

“I am no shark, Corvo, but waters you swim in are full of them indeed. Best be careful.”

Fingers dig a little harder, and Corvo dares to lean his head to the side to rest it on the Outsider’s cool hand. A soft touch against his cheek calms him, as it always does, and he takes a moment’s respite to wallow in the god’s caress.

***

Daud invites Corvo for another meeting by the end of the fourth day. The location is ominous, a rooftop of the Dunwall Tower by sundown. Corvo watches Daud’s shape appear in a few swift blinks across the rooftop.

His red coat matches the soft line of the horizon where the sun sets behind the sea. It makes his heart wobble a little in uncertainty of admiration, and he shrugs it off.

Daud flicks a small lighter until it produces a flame, a thin cigarette trapped between his fingers.

“Has the Empress approved of my involvement?”

“She has,” Corvo says curtly. Daud gives him a look, sighs and procures another cigarette that he lends to Corvo. There is a sparkling moment of eyes meeting, almost as if for the first time, and Corvo takes the cigarette, leaning to light it off the flame. Two swirls of smoke rise in the air.

“I had my people track down some possibilities… Some they have dealt with, but some require a more particular attention. Care to join me for a stroll?” Daud asks in a low and suave voice that leaves Corvo’s heart hanging again.

“Is this why we are meeting so late and here?”

“Part of the reason, yes. Another part is to exhibit just how easy it is to get here. If I were you, I’d have improved the guard.”

Corvo looks at the assassin, a little bewildered, amused.

“Not everyone can show off powers given by a god, which is how we got here in the first place.”

“So you say this is the most private part of the Tower, huh?” Daud chuckles, his voice a little hoarse.

“Maybe not the safest, but yes.”

They take a few more short minutes to enjoy the smoke, to watch a small motorboat glide across Wrenhaven, to listen to seagulls who hunt down dinner for the little ones. There is something peaceful about Dunwall evenings, even if they are touched with a feeling of something eerie.

As two cigarettes are dropped on the roof, Corvo and Daud swiftly blink down and across the massive gardens, carefully avoiding the guard’ gaze. As soon as they are on the street, Corvo pulls up his hood.

“We are going to pay a good ole Admiral a visit. He may not be quite as involved as others are, but he has information. And I want it,” Daud says as he and Corvo climb another rooftop, a set of massive street lamps and finally a rooftop of a tall apartment building. From there the building seem to be diminishing in size. Daud’s finger points to an apartment behind closed balcony doors. Through a crack beneath it light softly pours out as well as through a couple of old rusted windows.

A sudden pleasant rush goes through Corvo’s body. It is rare that he gets to be on the field these days, as criminals have become almost boring to deal with and there is no action to prevent. But here with a danger to his Empress he gets to be a little more… forthcoming.

Daud’s figure blinks to the balcony without a sound and Corvo follows. He feels the metal weight of a crossbow on his wrist and the soft whispers of the Void as he tunes in with the shadows and watches the world go dark. All but a yellowish shape of a person inside, seated at a table and playing with the rim of a whiskey glass.

Corvo closes his eyes and the Dark Vision fades away. He notices but a trace of sickly blue of Daud’s eyes as they turn to normal.

“How do you want to proceed?”

“I’ll do the getting in. You’ll do the talking,” he says and without another second to breathe he pushes the door.

Corvo has never seen it from the outside. Does he too move faster than a shadow, swifter than a gust of wind? Does he too look so dangerous and eerie as matter changes around him - and in a blink of an eye the man who sat at the table is held in a choking hold, a tip of a sharp dagger pressed to his throat.

He is out of breath. He is… the feeling he has in his gut is something new. But there is no time for that.

“What do you want?” the man croaks out as Corvo approaches.

“Information. You seem to be well connected, Admiral. Unsurprising, considering your position, but just how quickly can it go away if the Empress gets wind of you, planning to kill her?”

“I am not a madman! Why would I want to, let me go!” he resists, but Daud’s deadly grasp and cold heart make the Admiral stay where he is.

“Farley Havelock, isn’t it? A renowned admiral, inspiration amongst his people. What connections do you have that have enough money to buy an Empress’ life?”

“There are plenty of people who want her head, not as many brave enough to try. Brave or stupid, mark my words.”

The tip of the dagger paints a tiny bleeding streak on his unwashed neck, and he whines from pain as Daud releases the grasp a little.

“You will tell us who has such a possibility and interest,” Corvo insists, checking a bottle on the table. Dunwall Whiskey, 10 years, not too bad.

Before the Admiral can open his mouth to speak, a bone cracking hit lands on his jaw. Corvo looks up with a sharp reproach, meeting Daud’s resolved one.

“This is an encouragement,” he explains with a shrug, watching blood streaking from the corner of Havelock’s mouth.

This is not Corvo’s method, not quite. Violence is only the last resort of the desperate, and he is not prone to desperation.

Havelock grunts and looks up at the men, sighing.

“Must you torture an old man when you know every rich snob in the city already?”

Daud hits him again.

“And this is a warning. Don’t try my patience,” Daud grits through his teeth. “It runs thin.”

And with a sigh Havelock delivers names of those who are more or less in a good possession of coin and who may feel dissatisfied with Empress Jessamine’s rule.

The names make Corvo’s anger boil in a way that a calm sea rises above the land line. Slow, but enraged with every sound. Oh he knows those names, the Pendleton brothers, Lord Burrows, Overseer Campbell and a couple of others, lesser known. All of them possible conspirators, and every single one of them Corvo wants to find and question.

“Thank you for the information, Admiral,” Corvo says dismally, turning on his heels. There is a revolting sound, a splutter of blood and Corvo turns to see Havelock dead on the desk, blood gushing from a wound on his neck. It lasts but a second as the body disappears into ash.

Corvo is on Daud, holding him by the lapels in an instant, looking into his eyes for explanation.

“Must everything end in blood for you?” he asks through his teeth, to which Daud does not resist. His eyes are oddly blank for a killer, but, perhaps, it is the lesson of his profession.

He takes Corvo’s hands, lingering a little, and throws them off his chest.

“Would you rather he stayed alive and notified everyone who was in the plot? Do you think he wasn’t in for the cut?” Daud rumbles, picking up the whiskey bottle from the desk and taking a swig.

“Perhaps… but it isn’t my way.”

“It’s mine,” Daud shrugs, heading for the window. Corvo looks at him for a moment, a battle of opposite feelings in his chest.

He wants so badly to make that man  _ feel _ something and show it, he thinks maybe if he did something reckless, he would see Daud’s demeanor change. But on the other hand, he is repulsed by such an attitude, he wants nothing less than Daud’s lips on his, he wants nothing more than that, too.

***

When Corvo returns to the Tower to deliver the news to the Empress, after a careful choice of words he retires back to his room, sitting heavily at the desk. Thoughts slowly fill up his mind, the images of the passed day and imaginations of tomorrow. 

He laughs a little bitterly under his breath, thinking of how his life has come down to this. From being a little boy to a devout mother to being an adult man in the service of the Empress, with a god watching him on one side and a man at his lowest watching from the other.

“Oh mother, what would you have said now?”

For a little while Corvo gives time to his thoughts, some more time to a glass of whiskey until it hazes his mind enough to promise him a dreamless night.

But this is not what the Outsider has intended for him, it appears.

Corvo finds himself in a secluded collapsed building on the street that breaks off into the Void. Rocks float peacefully, and water, strung from the would-be sewers, flows upwards into the endless nothingness.

Standing outside the building Corvo sees the Outsider, embraced by a soft whirl of smoke. He awaits him, clearly, and Corvo approaches.

“I didn’t know a god can get so needy for company,” Corvo says quietly, looking ahead into the blue hues of the Void.

“I am not lonely, but on occasion I hunger for a good conversation. Such is not to be had with my followers, but certainly with you, Corvo,” the Outsider muses, turning his head a little and hiding his hands behind his back. “Besides, I like watching how you wade through history and how you rest from it.”

“Well, you’ve deprived me of rest for this night.”

“I’ll make it worthwhile,” the Outsider says, turning in the air on his heels to face Corvo. There is a certain advantage to being able to control the environment, to use air to be taller, but Corvo still slightly towers over the Outsider, looking in his black eyes.

“How so?..” he asks with a slight tremble to his voice.

Outsider reaches forward to draw his cool finger down Corvo’s cheek. The touch is akin to a cube of ice, cold and sharp and makes him shiver. The touch goes on until Outsider’s finger rests on Corvo’s lip.

And he dares to kiss it.

Outsider smiles with a hidden hunger that is revealed only through the smile he gives Corvo. And the next moments last for so long, as if stuck in a loop, as the Outsider’s hand runs around Corvo’s nape - and their lips meet.

Perhaps, he has been dropped in the middle of a cold ocean, or the wind has blown through every fold of his clothing, for this is how it feels to kiss the Outsider. But then the cold is replaced by warmth that makes him want to be back in that coldness, and the contrast does nothing to calm his beating heart.

He pulls back, dazed and ever so awake, looking in the Outsider’s black eyes.

There is a moment of silence that the god breaks.

“I was curious how you taste…”

“This makes me feel like a prey,” Corvo mutters, tasting the Outsider on his lips in irony.

“Were you not curious yourself?”

It would be a lie to say he didn’t. It would be too much of a giveaway if he did. So he says nothing.

Outsider’s thumb strokes under his jaw, while his nails slightly caress Corvo’s nape through dark curls.

He leans in again, and this time Corvo goes in prepared, capturing the god’s lips and savouring him for the longest minutes, until the Void grows tired of them, and Corvo awakes in his bed with just a mild sweat on his forehead and a bitten lip.

***

Daud sends him a message to meet on the rooftop again the following day, and Corvo paces the roof with measured dull thuds of his boots. Daud appears as a flash of sunset red.

“My agents have kindly acquired more information. We can for certain rule out the Pendleton brothers from this affair. While powerful, as you are well aware, their fortune is dwindling due to a number of poor choices and some court game. Even if they were to try and come after Jessamine, they wouldn’t,” Daud explains hastily. 

“This leaves us with?”

“My bet is on the Lord Spymaster.”

“He is so close to the Empress, would he dare?”

“Did you get in a fight?”

The question stops Corvo in his track of thoughts. Immediately he feels a gentle panging pain in his lip, a reminder of an odd night of gentle passion and exploration that didn’t have to go further than his lips.

“Not exactly,” Corvo mutters, looking away as Daud smirks.

“I’ve seen those… when my people would scurry in the corners and think I don’t see what they are up to.”

Corvo blushes, being compared to hot-headed assassins with little regard to what could only somewhat be called a duty. He is not prone to outbursts of physical affection, unless those are prompted. But it is somehow worse with Daud in presence, because as much as he craved to taste the Outsider’s lips, he wants to know about Daud, too.

But he stuffs those thoughts away, and Daud doesn’t pry any more, and they part ways for their own investigations.

Much to Corvo’s surprise, Daud finds him the very next day in the evening, knocking on the window of his room. Corvo hurries to let the assassin in as well as a generous amount of rain that poured into the city.

Daud shakes his head a little and smoothes out dark wet hair.

“I apologize for bothering you at this hour,” Daud says with a slight bitterness to his voice, “but I have just had a most curious encounter.”

“Such as?” Corvo asks, offering his nightly guest a glass of whiskey.

“Agents of our target. They had no names, of course, but they must have thought me an amateur. I recognized their attire, the fools didn’t even bother to remove what could make them recognizable. And I was right, they are Burrows’ people.”

Corvo’s heart races a little, the target is so close to being caught, the investigation may yet be finished and the Empress saved.

“What did they want?”

“For me to make a move,” Daud says, looking in Corvo’s eyes. There is a flash of lightning outside the Tower, painting the room in twisted shadows for a mere second.

“Are you here for that?” Corvo asks cautiously. 

“More or less. But I have a plan,” Daud says, touching Corvo’s arm with his fingers. It’s a gesture so unusual that leaves Corvo feeling vulnerable, and he slowly wriggles his arm out of Daud’s touch.

“What is it?”

“Let me talk to the Empress about it. We could stage a performance and watch the audience play the parts.”

“Do you always talk in this manner?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like you recite poetry?”

Daud bursts into laughter that leaves Corvo a little more embarrassed and flushed in the cheeks as Daud downs his glass of whiskey.

“I may not be nobility, but I have mingled with them enough to pick up a mannerism or two. I hope you don’t mind, Lord Protector,” Daud mocks him with a smile and a fake bow.

In the end, he does go for the Empress who cautiously invites her own assassin to a small study. Her fingers touch the base of the desk lamp and it brings a soft light to a dark room. Rain pats against the window glass softly, providing them with a nice atmosphere for a conversation, if only it could be a pleasant one.

“Lord Burrows?” Jessamine says in quiet bewilderment. A moment’s consideration and she furrows her brows, her dark eyes gloomy as the weather. “I can sadly believe such a statement. However, without proof, I can barely believe you, even if I’m inclined to.”

Daud looks at her for a moment and then sets a small shiny pin on her desk.

“I dare not ask how you’ve gotten it,” the Empress says quietly, looking at the pin without touching it, and Daud does not hurry to explain.

Corvo knows the answer already, too.

“I offer we entertain some audience. I have already infiltrated the Tower at your kind invitation, now let me pretend to have mortally wounded you. The rest should play out as a well rehearsed play.”

Empress’ eyes dart to Corvo and back to the assassin and then with a mild glance at the corner in the room that stays empty.

And then she nods, asking the assassin for more details as well as requesting Corvo’s support. 

They agree on tomorrow. To have Daud pay a visit to the Empress with a curated number of guards to notice it. There would be Corvo, of course, playing his role in this theatrical performance for the eyes of the Spymaster. Corvo as well as Jessamine are certain that after Daud’s tip off Lord Burrows will be in the vicinity to find a way to take over the Empire in the would-be unfortunate event of the Empress’ death.

Corvo watches delicate sadness in her eyes. He knows that some would not even question her death - there are many who love her and just as many who oppose her. The Empire would fall into chaos without a leader that can stand between the two sides with the same bravery and pride as Jessamine.

Daud gives Corvo a thoughtful look, that does not go unnoticed even after the talks are over and Daud and Corvo sit in his study.

“You have doubts about this, don’t you,” Daud says calmly. Corvo shrugs, tightening the folds of his coat around himself and pushing hair away from his eyes. He doesn’t meet Daud’s gaze.

“I only worry that in our little plan we are forgetting something big. Jessamine has many enemies.”

“That she has. But so would any other ruler. Jessamine is certainly not the worst evil, and not evil at that.”

Corvo sighs and gets up from his chair to slip out of the coat. The room is warm with dancing fires in the fireplaces, and the rain is still merilly hitting its song against the window. Daud gets up too, sliding his hand down his hair and looking at the blurry city outside.

“I shall take my leave then. There is much to do.”

“Stay for a glass of whiskey?”

“Only for that?”

Corvo realises that Daud didn’t mean to say it, that it simply slipped off, it’s the warmth and pleasantness of the room that made him mellow. But it was the only thing needed to set Corvo’s mind into motion.   
The cravings of many previous days finally converge in Corvo’s chest as he presses to Daud to kiss him. Dry lips against dry lips, tasting a little of whiskey and cigars, tasting of rivalry and odd connection.

Daud pulls back, but not too far enough, and Corvo can finally see every detail of his face, every scar to count. He stares in Daud’s dark dim eyes.

He feels a touch on his shoulder, but those are not the hands of the assassin. Those fingers that claw are nimble and deceitfully gentle, belonging to the Outsider.

Without another comment he guides Corvo’s chin away from Daud for a kiss of his own, then does the same for Daud in such a powerful manner that Corvo’s knees tremble a little.

When the god has appeared in the room, Corvo missed entirely, but he is glad to not be in charge. So he watches with simple relish how Daud almost needily kisses the Outsider. That facade of hardiness, of age and experience crumbles into pieces before the deity, who seems to be entirely glad to stay in control.

Outsider takes hold of Daud’s chin, looking in his eyes with that infinite blackness.

“We will not do anything you do not wish for… So tell us what you do wish, and we shall make it happen.”

Corvo watches as Daud’s throat bobbles with a dry swallow.

“I want to worship.. Let me touch… It is all I ask for.”

“We can do that… can’t we, Corvo?” Outsider asks, turning his gaze at Corvo who nods, even though he doesn’t quite understand.

The god closes his eyes and rests his head against Daud’s forehead, and there is fondness such as Corvo has never seen before. A sigh, and then Daud slowly runs his fingers over Outsider’s jacket, removing it with a motion so knowing. Not the first time, then.

“What you do to me, black eyed bastard, makes me question myself…” Daud whispers, pressing dry kisses to the white shirt the Outsider wears beneath the jacket. “But for all that time, I would not change a thing… not a thing.”

Outsider kisses him briefly, full lips pressed against Daud’s, which makes Corvo’s chest and stomach heat up. That voice, he wonders if that tease was not just for the Outsider, but for Corvo, too.

“Sit, Corvo… Watch us a little,” Outsider orders, and Corvo obliges, moving into his chair.

Daud carefully undresses Outsider, every fold of his clothing smoothed out. He steals little touches of skin when he can, and slowly the Outsider is but a pale creature in front of them both.

Daud takes his own coat off and eases the collar of hit shirt, eyes a little glazed with affection. Corvo gets up from the chair, and the Outsider doesn’t protest. He makes his way to Daud and touches his cheek softly, as if reassuring, to which Daud replies with the same gesture of affection.

Outsider slowly drifts in the air, arms running around his lovers, for this is what they are, and presses them to his chest. Corvo sees not a single flaw on his perfect skin, save for the scar around his neck.

“Be mine… both of you tonight. Let us revel in ardor.”

Corvo has never wanted that more than that night.

And the night is…. Resplendent. He is certain either himself or Daud used that word when Outsider took Corvo with flesh and soul. Could there be a more beautiful act of intimacy than when Outsider takes and takes and takes, and Corvo moans his name in his palm, watching Daud embracing Outsider from behind. How his eyes, sharp and wise, watch Corvo tremble in pleasure of having the god make love to him.

He wishes they never part for another night together.

***

The day of the final confrontation Corvo paces his room in measured quiet steps. The future of the Empire is in danger today, at least, a hopefully prosperous future with Jessamine. It is his job to keep her safe, and today it is on his shoulder, a single chance for this scheme.

Jessamine knocks on his door softly with their secret knock, and he lets her in, cautiously peeking into the hall.

“It is almost time,” she whispers, looking up at Corvo. There is not a crack in her stoic imperial posture, but she allows Corvo to notice the worry in her eyes.

“You should go to your quarters, my Empress,” he says quietly, listening into the noises outside the room. “It will happen soon.”

As Jessamine leaves, Corvo gives a thoughtful glance at the grandfather’s clock in the room. It is ticking just past eleven in the morning, closing nearer and nearer the final hour of their plan.

At exactly half past eleven the guards sound the alarm, its screeching noise breaking through the peace of the Tower. Someone has broken into the Empress’ quarters, and Corvo rushes to the room, sword unfolded in his hand.

He finds Daud, holding Jessamine by the waist, a dangerously sharp dart pressed to her throat. She barely moves or breathes as the doors fling open and Daud pulls her closer.

“Let her go,” Corvo demands, receiving a sneer from Daud.

For a terrible, long moment Corvo wonders if he made a mistake. What if he trusted Daud for all the wrong reasons and eased his way to Jessamine? What if it was all a clever ruse to avoid obstacles in getting to her.

With a careful thrust Corvo reaches with his sword at Daud, which he parries, throwing Jessamine aside to the floor. A duel ensues, Corvo and Daud skillful enough to play pretend with an edge of lethality.

More people arrive, allowing Corvo to take charge and too scared to be in the way of his weapon. Daud grunts and growls a little as Corvo presses in, and finally, with an overpowering whirl, Corvo manages to disarm the assassin.

It is at this moment that Hirram Burrows rushes in the chambers, not at all out of breath, but a little too dramatic for an innocent person.

“Arrest him!” he demands, pointing at Daud who tries to retrieve his weapon from the floor. And then his eyes dart to Jessamine, who rises from the floor, ever so gracious, fixing the lapels of her jacket.

“Guards, arrest him. And Lord Burrows for an attempt on my life,” she says.

From that moment on comes temporary turmoil as Lord Burrows is dragged away through the shouted pleas of innocence, Daud in tow. Corvo gives him a look, a promise that this is all but a final scene of the play for the traitor Spymaster. 

Then come many papers, confirmations and confessions. Bribes are recovered, so are other participants of the unfortunate plot. The depth of corruption Corvo has been so blind to makes him ache, and he is resolved to investigate deeper once the initial madness ends.

After what feels like ages Corvo stretches on his bed, fire burning in the fireplace and a glass of whiskey in his hand, reflecting the soft light. Born from the shadows, the Outsider appears, cat like as he slides onto the bed beside Corvo.

“You have turned the tides of your fate as powerfully as the whales travel through the seas. Do you understand to what lengths you have truly gone?” he asks calmly, looking up at Corvo.

“I don’t think it has sunk in yet,” he replies with a small shrug, taking a sip from the glass. The drink is stinging his tongue and throat pleasantly. “Tomorrow will be the day I worry about it.”

“And what is tonight?”

Corvo flinches, freezes, as the Outsider’s fingers carefully slide up from Corvo’s knee to his thigh. The touch is studying, exploring, and doing little to calm Corvo’s nerves.

“Is it a question or an offer?”

“Could it be both? I shall not intrude if you wish for privacy and peace, but I can give you… the same in a different manner. Corvo,” Outsider hums, stroking Corvo’s inner thigh without an ounce of innocence.

The response of Corvo’s body is instant, albeit distant. He feels the heat pooling, his mouth going dry, his need rising slowly. And his cock straining against the fabric of his pants, betraying the reaction.

He sets the glass aside and leans to the Outsider, resting on his side. His hand, calloused, rests on the Outsider’s gentle and cool cheek as the god and his favourite leans into the kiss.

Corvo’s slightly chapped lips soften with the Outsider’s attention. A clever tongue would leave no spot untouched, no cell of Corvo’s body without a tease. He craves that tongue more on just his lips, but he wouldn’t dare ask, not yet.

A sweep of cool air enters the room together with an unannounced guest.

“A curious picture,” Daud says, stepping back in surprise to the window.

Corvo looks to the side, unsure if he wants to keep kissing the Outsider or if he wants to pull Daud in.

But Daud resolves this for him, approaching, and slowly running his fingers through Outsider’s hair. The god smiles, closing his eyes. Corvo is enticed by the way his body melts and by the way Daud joins this little… venture.

Corvo sits up a little to caress Daud’s arm and shoulder. He feels the muscle under the hard fabric of his coat, and Daud’s eyes focus on him.

“If I am allowed to join, let me join you in my way…”

Corvo reaches up to kiss his jaw.

“Guide us…”

Things… change.

The Outsider, content with the touch and affection, suddenly changes in his posture and manner. Where he permitted Corvo to kiss him and Daud to pet him, he now slides his hands slowly up Daud’s chest, watching for his reaction. Then his fingers slowly stroke Corvo’s chest, and Corvo, inspired, begins freeing the tight buttons of his shirt.

It is barely different to the previous time they’ve joined their affections. But tonight, Corvo feels, it is more about Corvo watching Daud and the Outsider, rather than the other way around.

Outsider softly caresses Daud’s shoulder and then squeezes it, making Daud flutter his eyes closed.

“I may not be omniscient, but I see plenty. How your paths collide and make for the little islands of peace between history changing events. Take a moment to relish it. Take a moment with me.”

Corvo runs his hand over Daud’s leg carefully, watching as the Outsider kisses Daud. Corvo embraces Daud tightly, feeling the lively beating of his heart and heavy breathing in his chest. He is surely overwhelmed, and Corvo wants to do what he can do best - protect.

And that night, he does, keeping Daud and Outsider safe in the privacy of his room, where not a sound escapes, where not a touch is heard, where they don’t need to speak - only show. Only learn. Only care.

***

A loud knock on the door brings Corvo to wakefulness. It is bothersome enough with the shouting outside his room, and he scurries to slide out of the bed.

“What is the matter?” he asks hoarsely, throwing a heavy robe on his shoulders. A couple of guards, their faces worries, and the guard captain, honorary member of the Empress’ protectors, stand before him.

“The Empress, Lord Protector. She would not awake.”

Cold sweat drenches Corvo’s nape down his spine. Perhaps, she is merely too tired, but there wouldn’t be such an emergency, would there.

As he quickly changes into a more presentable and authoritative garb, he realises that the bed is vacant of both the Outsider and Daud, as if their presence was but a vision, a dream.

Reality and cold fear pull him back out of growing despair and doubts and he rushes out of his room, down the hall to where Jessamine rests.

He finds a healer beside her bed who holds her hand to feel the pulse.

“She lives,” the healer concludes softly. “But she may be… poisoned.”

From that point forward it is all mess and chaos. Cooking staff questioned, guard rotations checked. Corvo’s mind is entirely focused on trying to figure out how he managed to thwart one assassination, yet failed to notice the other.

In the whirlwind of events he only retires to his room at a late enough hour for the moon to shine in his window. Soon, it is shadowed by Daud’s presence as he blinks into the room with a knowledgeable, almost comfortable look of a welcome guest.

“I’m sorry,” Daud says quietly as Corvo slowly slides out of a heavy coat. 

“What for?” 

“I have been mislead and thus both of us are fooled. The Lord Spymaster may have had no part in this.”

Corvo turns around, sharp gaze on his companion. 

“Do you mean to say we have jailed the wrong person?”

“No, he is where he rightfully belongs. I do think that this was also a ruse to blind us to someone more capable.”

“Not capable enough, luckily,” Corvo sighs, running his hand through his wavy hair. A heavy hand rests on his shoulder, a little cold, squeezing tightly. He turns around, looking in Daud’s eyes. Being so close to him makes his skin get goosebumps. And despite every touch being so exciting, it is oddly reassuring. Like he understands.

“It is yet possible we track down the would be killer, Corvo.”

_ Corvo _ … Has Daud ever used his name before at all?

Corvo braves to press a kiss to Daud’s hand on his shoulder and slides out of his reach.

“We will… I need rest first.”

Daud shyly shifts weight on his feet and looks at the window. Corvo looks at his sharp profile and the scar on his face. There is so much history on that face.

“Stay the night,” he says quietly, surprised of his own request. 

And so together they huddle on the bed. With Corvo’s permission Daud lights a cigar, its sweetly cedar flavour spreading in the air. It is something fancy, from a far off place. Corvo watches a moment how it smolders with light on the end.

Daud moves it from his lips, letting out a soft translucent cloud of smoke and moves the cigar as an offer to Corvo who accepts.

The flavour is familiar, something he cherishes. A memory in his mouth from when old Theodanis Abele allowed him occasional access to his stash of cigars. All that before he moved to a whole other place to change the course of his life forever.

In that comforting silence they finish the cigar and set it aside when the flavour gets too much. And somehow it’s so easy to turn their heads and press lips together, to relax in each other’s presence. Corvo’s kiss is tired and gentle, Daud’s - needy and curious. Sometimes he would nibble Corvo’s lip, if only to test Corvo’s reaction, who in return would soothe him with a touch of his rough hand. 

It is but a moment in the whirlwind of events, and duty pulls Corvo out of bed in the morning.

He makes his way downstairs into the kitchen to find the staff interrogated by one of the assigned officers.

“And you say that no one but these people had access to the Empress’ breakfast?”

“Yes, sir,” an old servant replies, sweat gathering on his temples. Corvo watches from the shadows, present yet not interacting. His proximity is enough to make the servant’s eyes wander a little which does not go unnoticed by the officer.

“Anything else?”

“No sir. Yes sir,” he mutters, tripping over words. Corvo steps out into the light of the kitchen, taking a chair and turning it around to sit, arms resting on the back of the chair.

“Whatever you have to say, please do. The crown will protect you,” he says with soft reassurance and insistence of the Lord Protector.

The kitchen hushes oddly, and the servant swallows.

“There was a new girl who has disappeared since it happened.”

“Oh?”

“She was a little odd, she’d sing macabre songs all the time and laugh that they don’t mean anything. But she was really good with cooking and she has been promoted to take care of the Empress’ meals.”

Corvo sighs quietly, rubbing gradually sweating palms. Realising just how little he knows of the City and how much more he learns in these brief days makes him feel unsettled.

“What was her name?”

“Delilah, sir.”

A strange name, Corvo thinks to himself. With a careful glance he studies the room through the dark vision, eager to see a hidden clue, anything at all. But all there is are dead shadows and sickly yellow shapes of the people around him.

As he snaps out of the vision, he watches the servant's brows furrow.

“It’s strange, I feel like I have seen her before,” the servant says thoughtfully. Corvo rises from the chair, setting it back.

“Give the officer all the details you can. Appearance, names, address…”

Corvo departs, fewer answers and more questions on his mind.

***

The guard is set outside Jessamine’s chambers, rotations, checks, security tight as ever. Corvo enters her room and closes the door behind him, inhaling sharp herbal smells of the medicine. He sits beside the Empress, carefully taking her warm hand in his. It’s an intimacy she permits him, a token of their long built friendship. He holds her hand, in thoughts and even prayers, when the voice comes to him from behind.

“Such momentous things you hold in your hands, my dear Corvo,” the Outsider murmurs, striding past Corvo, shadows dragging behind him. “Empress’ hand, assassin’s heart, my attention…”

“I aim high,” he says quietly, letting go of Jessamine’s hand and stepping back.

Outsider’s arms slide around Corvo’s torso and his cool lips press to his nape, barely a whiff of air.

“Her would be killers walk the earth still, Corvo. What shall you do? I am oh so curious to watch…”

“It’s not entertainment,” Corvo says with a tinge of annoyance in his voice, as the Outsider holds him tighter.

“No, it is not… But I have watched history unfurl, and for me this is but another milestone. For you, it’s a choice with a weight of the whole Empire. Will you let your sword guide you, will you put a bullet in a heart, will you walk away… Will you show me the answer?”

Corvo calmly rests his palms on the Outsider’s hands, locked on his front, and holds for a long second. And then he has nothing but smoky wisps in his fingers, and the room is warmer once more.

***

“I have only a name,” Corvo says, looking at Daud across a desk, filled with odd blueprints, notes, portraits and books. He has never been in Daud’s lair before, and the place is intimidating with its humble and yet outrageous attitude to the rest of the city.

“A name is a powerful knowledge to have. I know  _ names _ that have more weight and power than the entirety of the City Guard. So what is it?”

Corvo winces but replies with a sigh.

“Delilah.”

Daud arches his brow. A flicker of recognition in his eyes?

“I know one… Could it be the same one?”

“What is she like?”

“Sharp and confident, over confident, I should say. Charming and mysterious. I haven’t dealt with her apart from a couple of suspicious cult related rumours,” Daud explains, shuffling through papers on his desk in search of whatever evidence he might offer.

Corvo sighs again and slides down on a chair, stretching out his legs. Age is certainly catching up with him all too soon.

Daud calls up his Whalers and sends a couple away to see if Delilah may be anywhere in the city, any rumours with her name. And together, he and Corvo wait.

“Wouldn’t it be interesting if she has an interest in the Outsider? As you said, she deals cults and the like.”

“Or he in her…” Daud smiles, and he clearly shares the same feeling as Corvo has - not quite liking the thought of the Outsider being interested in anyone but himself and Daud. He is not possessive, but the thought stings nonetheless.

“Even worse. Would you hate him if it were so?”

Daud laughs bitterly, pushing through a couple of notes thoughtlessly.

“He is not easy to hate as he is not easy to like. But no, I wouldn’t. Sometimes I think the black eyed bastard doesn’t know himself until you tell him the answer.”

Corvo blinks, thinking back to his conversation with the Outsider, and nods.

Tiredness washes over him in unpleasant waves, from weakness in his legs to a sinking feeling in his stomach. He feels so old to deal with it, he feels so overwhelmed.

A hard grip on his hand tethers him to reality. Daud’s sharp gaze - even more so. He looks at Daud, and suddenly feels so lonely and needy.

“Would you mind if I kiss you? Not a time and place, I know, but--”

“Do it.”

Leaning over the table, Corvo looks for an engulfing kiss to take his mind away. He can’t help it, can’t overcome the need to press his mouth to Daud’s who after the initial surprise allows him, pressing his tongue boldly against Corvo’s.

He and Daud rise, kissing each other, guiding each other to the nearby wall because their own arms are little to no support. Corvo feels the beating of Daud’s heart, listens to the clinking buckles on the many belts that collide with Corvo’s. He smells the tobacco and the smell of Daud himself, and as he breathes in, he finds odd peace of belonging. A secret outside the ever knowing Tower, a comfort in the heart of danger.

And so Corvo, a few inches taller than Daud, has him pressed against the wall, ravishing his lips, curling fingers into the lapels of his coat.

The last time he did it, he was making a threat. Today, he is making a statement.

Daud responds not quite as fiercely, but there is unrepressed intensity to the way he explores Corvo’s mouth. His hands rest on Corvo’s face, holding in place, one hand sliding boldly into his hair for a desperate tug.

They pull away, leaving but half an inch between their lips. Corvo’s eyes look in Daud’s, then over his face and away to the wall.

“I don’t really know what we are doing,” Daud says quietly, his fingers curling into Corvo’s back.

“Me neither… But I want it.”

“I don’t want it to stop, that’s for certain…” Daud exhales and buries his face in Corvo’s shoulder for a moment. “You know, I was awfully jealous of the way the Outsider looked at you. I think I wanted him to look at me that way too. And then, you, to look at me. And you did.”

Corvo smiles and with a gentle touch brings Daud’s cheek closer, to press their lips together again. No more talk is necessary, only slower, passionate kissing.

If only a light cough on the side didn’t break them apart, flushed, and out of breath.

“Thomas, have you not learnt how to knock?” Daud asks, wiping his mouth and smoothing out his coat. Thomas, whose face is hidden under the rubber Whaler mask, only tilts his head, but Corvo can hear a tiny chuckle even like that.

“Sir, they say there have been sightings of a marked woman.”

Corvo darts him a curious gaze.

“Marked?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is it Granny Rags, Thomas? What is she up to?” Daud says lowly, pulling out a cigar from a small case and lighting it up.

“No, sir, not Granny Rags. It’s Delilah.”

Daud freezes with the cigar slowly burning, and Corvo leans over the desk a little, leaning on it with one hand.

“Where did you see her?”

“By the Brigmore Manor, sir.”

“Brigmore?” Corvo asks in slight confusion. “The place has been empty for a while now.”

Daud thoughtfully touches the desk, fingertips tapping away a tune.

“Why don’t we go see the place?”

***

Together, Corvo and Daud take a route over the street corners and rooftops to get to the Manor in the shortest amount of time. Could the true assassin be so close, right outsider Corvo’s reach? Could she be reached, after all, and have all the misery of the Empress end?

“What will we do once we have her?”

“If we have her,” Corvo corrects him.

“Less pessimism, Royal Protector. She is but one person, we are two.”

Corvo sighs and flips over a gathering of junk in one of the streets they’re stealthing through.

“I don’t know. Murder would be the straight-forward route. I want answers, too.”

Daud grunts in reply and the conversation fades. Corvo doesn’t press on either, too nervous to speak more.

As they travel the city, streets turn wilder, where nature reclaimed what it could with rich gardens, crooked trees and flowers to be the envy of botanical gardens of the Tower. There are puddles after the rain, mirroring a pale blue sky and clouds swimming by. Corvo destroys their perfect image as his feet hit the puddle, and he continues running alongside Daud towards the Brigmore Manor that stands surrounded by a rusty fence. 

Daud pauses behind one of the fence pillars, as Corvo stands beside him.

“Did you notice?” Daud whispers, and Corvo nods thoughtfully.

“It’s too quiet.”

Without a doubt, it is a trap. Or a death wish, Corvo would judge from how eager this Delilah seems to be willing to meet him.

A sharp crook of a vine springs from the ground, nearly impaling Corvo - but he blinks away at Daud’s yell. There are swift motions, as Daud engages with a figure that just appeared between them, slender and tall, a woman, as Corvo can now see, and most certainly Delilah.

Her eyes, Jessamine’s, and Corvo loses his grip on reality for a moment. Her lips are twisted in a smug smile as she throws odd spells against them - and suddenly there is a ripple in the air, black and smoky, which all of them fall through.

The ground that Corvo hits is hard and solid, leaving his body without air for a moment as he hits it with a thud. Followed by Daud, who groans, and a thud further away, much more graceful.

“Welcome to my domain,” Delilah says, spreading her arms almost welcoming. As she moves, more poisonous plants seem to curl around Corvo’s legs, and he fights them off by slashing their roots and branches with his sword.

It is only now he realises they are in the Void, and whatever happened to it, neither Corvo, nor Daud, nor certainly the Outsider should be happy about.

“Witch!” Daud growls lowly, lunging forward as Delilah laughs and blinks away.

“Come play!” she screams, laughing, breaking the bridge between the ledges with what seems to be her sheer will, disappearing from sight entirely.

Daud leans over Corvo and offers him his hand, pulling him to his feet.

“Let’s find her and finish this.”

Their hands are squeezed tightly together as they move.

It is the first time that Corvo has such an area for the hunt. It gives him goosebumps, makes his stomach twist slightly in anxiety. He glances at Daud, ever so calm, but as he moves his gaze at Corvo, he can read a similar anxiety there too.

They continue. Corvo looks around, swallowing. The place feels oddly poisoned, where there should be rocks and nothingness, there are dangerous spiky curls of strange trees and roots, reddish aura in the air and unpredictability. Corvo doesn’t like not knowing what danger the next corner hides, and he would so much rather hunt in the city where there is no corner he doesn’t know, no street.

Daud reaches out calmly to squeeze Corvo’s hand. Their fingers twine but for a moment and slip away.

Slowly the rocks move to build a path up into the air, to curve and to slide down. Some places are entirely broken off and Corvo and Daud have to use their abilities to cross the gaps.

Until a moment that Corvo’s ankle catches something in the air and he falls, hanging midair, head down, staring in the face of his nemesis.

Delilah sits on the edge of the rock he jumped off of, smiling just barely, dangerous sharp eyes piercing him almost painfully.

“How is dear Jessamine?” she asks, moving her finger, to which the vine that holds Corvo swings a little.

There is a flash, a whirlwind that gives him a terrible whiplash - and he is thrown by a hard hand off onto the rock. There is clinking metal as Daud plunges himself into the duel, striking Delilah with his sword and receiving attacks back from her shortsword and magic.

Corvo gathers himself off the floor, joining the frey, wielding the sword with powerful attacks of anger and vengeance.

“Why!” he shouts out, managing to stumble Delilah a little off her feet, to which she blinks away. Corvo and Daud, marks burning faintly in the Void, cross the distance, angling to trap Delilah.

“Because all Empresses have to make way for justice, and justice is with me!” she retorts, deflecting Daud’s aggressive hit, but getting a scratch of Corvo’s sword against her side. Blood seeps onto her black clothing, driving her into deeper anger.

“Jessamine is the Empress who rules fairly,” Daud grits, but Delilah laughs him off with bitterness. She makes a gesture in the air, and a powerful vine grows from the side of a rocky slab, preventing Corvo from reaching. He tightens his fist, he wants to be done, and the guide of his Blink makes him jump just far enough to be out of Delilah’s sight.

“Jessamine wouldn’t be able to tell right from wrong if not for her advisors,” Delilah angrily uses the vine to grapple Daud, making his sword fall and slip off the edge of the rock. Corvo sees the fear in his eyes, and the pounding ache in his heart, ache of anger, as he rushes forward and drives the sword through Delilah’s chest, pinning her in his grasp.

She screams, but… Corvo feels her writhing a little, laughing loudly, almost happily as she simply slips off the sword.

“Oh dear Royal Protector, surely you wouldn’t kill your Empress’ sister?” she snarls, sinking Corvo’s heart in deep cold. A sister?

Delilah, pleased with the effect she has given, spreads her arms to surely cast another spell, right until her hand is gracefully caught by a pale hand of the Outsider, who Corvo has never seen so… emotional before. Not pity, not sadness, not happiness, but contempt.

“It is over, Delilah,” he says calmly. Black smoke rises off Delilah’s hand as the glowing mark dissipates and disappears within the Outsider’s palm.

“No!” she cries, and with that cry come choking gasps, repugnant gasps as Delilah falls to the ground, blood dripping on the rocky slab. Whatever magic sustained her immortality with a wound in her chest, has ceased, and the Empress’ would-be killer is no more. Suddenly, it is quiet, peaceful and it’s over.

Corvo rushes to catch Daud from falling as the vine dries up and breaks into pitiful little pieces and crumbles. The Outsider approaches, his feet touching upon the air and his arms sliding around his lovers.

Corvo has never before wanted to be held more. And so the Outsider does, so does Daud, holding him tightly, up on his feet.

“It’s over,” Daud says, his chin pressing onto Corvo’s shoulder as the Outsider kisses their foreheads. Corvo looks up, staring in the god’s pale impossible face.

“I thought you do not interfere.”

“She has used my own existence to harm you. That will not do…”

It may be the first time the Outsider admitted his affection in such a surprisingly tender manner.

Corvo sighs heavily.

“A sister… I am not sure I want to ask Jessamine of anything. She would have told me.”

Outsider caresses his hair slowly, brushing specks of blood away.

“Delilah was a part of a story Jessamine has long left behind, with the death of her Father’s and her Father’s many lies. Ask me no more…”

As Corvo and Daud leave the Void, Outsider behind, they carry Delilah’s body to be presented to the court and the investigators. A massive rock falls off Corvo’s shoulders when he sees Jessamine, up and walking, albeit weakly, towards him into the room where they appeared moments before.

“What happened?” she asks quietly, peering over Corvo’s shoulder as he blocks the entrance and the view.

“It is finished. You are safe and your attacker has been apprehended. No more threat…”

“Is she alive?” Jessamine asks even quieter, looking away from Corvo’s tired eyes. So she knows. So she saw her.

“No.”

Jessamine looks down, hiding emotions and tears for a few seconds until she can compose herself. Her lips turn into a soft reassuring smile that she addresses at Corvo.

“Thank you. I don’t think I say this enough, Corvo.”

“It’s my duty, my Empress.”

“We are friends, too,” she whispers, gently squeezing his arm and stepping back. “The healers prefer I stay in bed today for a little longer. I hope you and your companion join me for dinner, at least.”

As she walks away, Corvo turns to look at Daud, who tiredly rubs his thighs. With his sword gone, he seems restless.

Corvo closes the door and walks to his lover, kneeling in front of him. He touches his face, feeling that rough skin, feeling the slight stubble on his sharp cheeks.

“Are you tired?” he asks quietly, relishing the sudden wave of peace washing over him.

“Immensely. And beside that, disgruntled.”

“But we won.”

“Yes… But I am still rather disappointed with the Outsider. But I have never seen the bastard take his gifts away.”

Corvo laughs and presses a kiss to Daud’s neck, breathing in the tinge of sweat and cigars.

“Some day you’ll need to stop calling him that.”

“Some day,” Daud smiles, running his arms around Corvo and embracing him tightly. “But not today.”

From the shadows, the Outsider laughs, fondly watching, listening, waiting.


End file.
